You know those things, those once in a lifetime things, that offer themselves to you and you have to decide how to take it: To risk everything, to gain everything. For peace.
You know what I mean, don't pretend you don't. Don't pretend you've never had the opportunity to take something, but let it go. Don't pretend you wish you had - Just to see what it would have been like.
You know just what I mean..
Let me tell you what it's like when you take it, are you listening?
Let me tell you a story..
You know how the story goes, young girl, and poor, picked on at school. No don't "awww". I don't want any sympathy from you: I can take care of myself.
Well, there was this girl, you see. Cocky little bitch she was, so full of herself it was a wonder she ever managed to get anything that that throat of hers. Miss popular.
Sure, I was afraid of her. I mean, who wouldn't be? Her words were like a serrated knife, cutting, tearing, and ripping. I KNEW I was ugly, I KNEW I was fat, I didn't need her to tell me that. No. The bitch. Just because my clothes might not be designer label. Shallow minded. Yes, you know the sort.
Do you want me to tell you why I hated her so much? She took him.
She TOOK him from me. She knew I loved him, she knew I lived for him and to spite me SHE TOOK HIM. I despised her for that. He was mine, he never said he was, but deep down I knew he was mine. I watched her parade him up and down in front of me, while I sat there fit to snap. I watched them kiss, then I saw him turn to me without remorse and I knew she had turned him into herself: Cold.
HOW DARE SHE?
And more then that, she continued. Each lunch a living hell, torments, suffering.. I pretending I couldn't hear them, I pretended I didn't care, but they hurt. Terribly. Living nightmare.
It was only fair she should feel the same way I did.
I calculated. I needed the perfect time, and it came.
I had followed her for a week now. Hiding in shadows- I was used to it, she never even suspected I was there. It was on that day, around 2am after she was hurrying back from one of her "parties" in her little red high-heeled shoes, that I struck.
Deep darkness, deep shadows, Red Blood. Spilling onto the pavement, a cascade, and a waterfall from the vein. She trembled and screamed in agony, heart-wrenching, high-pitched, blood curdling. Quivering like a dying rabbit, crumpling to the floor like so much paper, she was weak.
And you know what?
How do you like Hell? How do you like the pain you put me through? How is it?
I made sure she knew it was me.
I left her there, I walked away. Liberated. Chained no longer, she would no longer be there to hurt me: I tell you; it's the most marvellous feeling in the world. Freedom. Complete freedom.
Why are you looking at me like that?